


Malfoy's Don't Cry

by NurseDrarry



Series: Malfoy's Don't Cry. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco being persistent, M/M, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDrarry/pseuds/NurseDrarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco Malfoy finds him being cheated on, by the Boy Who Lived, he's promptly whisked away from Hogwarts, by several matters. Thirteen years later, he's forced to go back to the place, where he left behind so many memories, but he's not alone.  </p>
<p>(This is in a collection because, after I finish this, I will be doing countless drabbles and snap fics with this story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malfoy's Don't Cry

Draco gripped the end of his mug close to his chest and felt the warmth seeping in. His discarded green and red scarf of the floor was torn in half, on the floor. He did not cry. He  _would_ not cry. Why should he? He was a Malfoy and proud, damn it! So why were tears dropping down, like a hail-storm?

_Why is my heart shattering over and over?_ He bitterly mused to himself. _I didn’t even realise that hearts could break._

The blond Slytherin drew his knees closer to his face and wrapped the blanket tighter, around him. He felt cold, even though the fire burned in the furnace. What was he to do? He was  _so_ very confused and dare he say, emotionally tired.  _Yes._ He told himself.  _It is confusion, not hurt._  Draco did not dare to move, some would say he was sleeping, but he was rigid and very much awake. He put out a facade when the Slytherin's Common Room burst open. Malfoy screwed his eyes tightly shut, when the opposing began to explain his side of the story, in fact he tuned out, completely.  He was already too lost into the memory of the afternoon.. 

_An Hour Ago_

_  
_The Slytherin dressed in red and yellow strode into the hall, there were collective of gasps, some coming from the Gryffindor. Most were distracted with the view of something that was blocked from the other three houses. A glorious satisfaction sat at his stomach as he pranced his way to the table where he usually sat at, although he felt unusually queasy. His best friend, Pansy, narrowed her eyes at him, suspiciously. Her eyes were in slits, almost cat-like. She cleared her throat and announced rather loudly, "Hello, Draco. Where were you, I didn't see you at the Library."

A couple more Slytherins looked up from their conversations, now engaged with what Draco had to say. "I was busy deciding, if I should wear the Slytherin colours or the Gryffindor, so I just decided to charm them together." his reply momentarily stunned everyone, as the chatter that was on a constant flow stopped. Dead silence. Pansy raised her right eyebrow, a trick he'd taught her to do, when they were small. Now he wished he hadn’t, she had mastered the raise much better than Draco himself. She lifted her goblet, sipping from it.

He counted the seconds, until he heard a familiar scream escaping Pansy's lip. She spat the tadpoles on to a First Year and glared daggers at her prey. In a deadly calm voice that was too quiet to be sincere, Pansy spluttered, “Draco Lucius Malfoy, I will skin you alive and feed you to the hippogriffs if you don’t get out of my sight in ten seconds.” A cackle left his lips as he sprinted; he knew Pansy would soon be following. Exhilaration entered his veins and he embraced it.

Then he paused, cocking his head, to the side, as the crowd continued to grow around something that he wished he could see. A flustered look appeared on his face. Pansy trailed to him, fuming, but just like Draco, her curiosity got the better of her. She grabbed Draco’s arm and dragged him to the front. His best friend tapped on the floor, impatiently but then froze. Her jaw dropped in horror and Draco couldn’t resist. He looked. His heart stilled for a second or two.

In front of him, were Potter and the only female Weaslette sucking faces off each other. His Potter. His _boyfriend_ Potter.

The Boy who Lived looked very betrothed to the activity set in for him. It seemed he had _forgotten_ Draco. A constriction of his heart jolted him.

 Suddenly, he was hyper aware of every pitying stare and empathetic murmur. He did what was the only idea in his head, he turned and fled. Which was _not_ Malfoy-like, but he could care less at that moment. A pained choked shout to Pansy, “I’ll be finishing my Transfiguration homework, Pans.” And then he walked out. He did not look back. Looking back was for the weak and Malfoy’s were not weak.

Draco laid flat on to his stomach as the memories rolled back and forth, but Harry Potter’s finishing memory clauses left him wondering what had happened after he left the Great Hall.  

He’d suspect that when Harry Potter had finally noticed the blond’s retreating presence, it was far too late to explain to why he was doing this. Draco imagined the Weaslette’s brother, Ron, to look as if he had swallowed a large glass of Firewhiskey and was on the verge of spilling his guts out and then finally he desperately looked at Hermione but her features were locked down on appalled.

He hoped that before Potter could so much as plead his case; a fist would have connected to his jaw, a furious dark-haired Slytherin would be eying him, with utter distaste and disdain. After that, he prayed Harry could not remember much, as a million punches rained on him, like cats and dogs. He was hopelessly trapped.

He knew that as soon as he was allowed to get out of Madam Pomfrey’s grasps, Harry would make his way into the Slytherin territory, surprised to see no one guarding the door to ensure that he wouldn’t be bothering the Ice Prince of Slytherin. He knew that Potter had charmed the snake, in the portrait, to open the door to Slytherin’s Common Room. How else could he have gotten in?

Draco could feel his heart in his throat, as he shook himself hard and decidedly clambered to his room. He ignored Harry’s calls and hollers, slamming his door closed, charming it to stay locked. Grabbing his suitcase, he flung it open, throwing all his clothes in, pointedly missing all the red and yellow clothing.  Once he was sure that he had all his important possessions, he shrunk the bag, and called a house elf.

“Mimsey!” he called. With a clear pop, the house elf in tatters stuttered, “Master called Mimsey? How may Mimsey serve Master?” Draco breathed out the air that he was persistently holding. “Could you take this to where Mother has kept her luggage? Thank you.” He softly spoke, hoarse from his crying episode. “Of course, Mimsey lives to serve you!” Mimsey seemed pleased to hear such endearing words coming out of his Master’s mouth that he left the room quicker than he came, with the suitcase.

Draco bit his lips and braved a look into his charmed mirror. _“Fix yourself up, Draco. You’re a Malfoy and you certainly don’t need Potter’s help with surviving.”_ The reflection in his mirror scowled. If anyone had spotted him then and there, they would have suspected that he was crying, but he would deny with his entire life, that they were a trickery of the light, just a mirage. The real-Draco could see what his reflection was projecting. His skin was blotchy and eyes were red, and he told himself. _It would be no good, if anyone else saw me in this state._

With that declaration, Draco pointed a wand at himself, spelling away all the remains of his tear-tantrum. Draco closed his eyes and apparated to the 9 and ¾ station, where his Mother was steadily waiting. He would write to Pansy later on, she would be cross with him for leaving without saying goodbye, but she would understand.  

Then he realised, his Mother needed him the most, there and then, more than anyone else. Even Potter. He had to be the strong one. He needed to be the strong one, so he would be. He would leave behind his childish lover and take on adulthood. Because he could.

On a bitter January 5th 1996 morning, Hogwarts had lost its best Potions student, Harry had misplaced a damaged lover and Pansy had mislaid her best friend, all under two hours, Draco Lucius Malfoy had vanished without a trace.

_He was simply gone with the wind._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I rewrote this. Sorry to those who preferred the other one! But I didn't want Harry to seem too heartless to be completely forgiven! c': I do rather like Drarry, but I sometimes like when Harry gets consequences for stuff like cheating on Draco. Well, I need sleep, more than a plebian, so good night. Expect the update to be somewhat soon.
> 
> Night,  
> M xoxo


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